The Kirkland Family Meeting
by Aqua Cahill
Summary: Good grief, it was the horror that all nations tried to forget, the dreaded time that came every ten years... The time when all the government officials of the United Kingdom (And Ireland, because he would throw a fit if not invited) forced the personifications of England, Scotland, Wales, N. Ireland, and Ireland- (And Sealand!) to come together for the Kirkland Family Meeting...
1. Prolouge

_This is just the prologue, so don't worry. The next chapters will be longer. Since there aren't many stories revolving around ALL six of the UK people, (I consider them as such. Saves so much space when typing.) I decided to write a story involving the Kirkland Family Meeting._

_(Don't worry Sealand. You'll sneak in somewhere.)_

_I don't own Hetalia or any of the characters!_

* * *

"Give that back!"

"Aye lad- Give the goat back-"

"Scotland! How many times do we have to go over this? I'm not a bloody goat-!"

"Wales! Don't you start-"

"Oh, shut up Ireland-"

"Shut up? How about you 'Shut Up'-"

"You've all been hanging out with America for so long-"

"Just give the goat-"

"Scotland! We _just went over this-!"_

"You bloody wankers! Be quiet-"

"Oh, the Black Sheep of Europe is finally speaking-!"

"You-!"

And that was the start of the Kirkland Family meeting.

Hopefully all five of the family members will come out in one piece. At least they could take comfort in the thought that the other nations had placed bets on who would survive. At least one was placed on Wales and the Irelands.

Let's listen in on more of the meeting, shall we?


	2. Where's the Pain Killers?

_Hehehe. I knew this would be well read. Yes, poor Wales. Always being referred to as 'Goat' …Which shall be explained. Someday._

…Poor Northern Ireland. Poor, Poor Northern Ireland.

_Yeah. I love him though. For everyone, I sort of based his and Ireland's relationship off of Iceland and Norway's, (Except more… aloof. Less 'Oniichan' more, 'I am not afraid to punch you, even if we are somehow related.' I have done research on Ireland and N. Ireland relationships, and how they all deal with each other… While they have somewhat good relations, I don't think they can forget all the wrong the others have done, so the relationships are kind of strained._

_I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers! Only the plot! (Kesesesesesesesese…)_

* * *

Northern Ireland (Or Tristan to his friends) growled as he was roughly pushed into the darkened meeting room, yelling curses as the military of his country slammed the door shut behind them, and locked it from the outside.

"Tá tú idiots! Imbeciles! Nuair a rachaidh mé amach anseo, I'll-"

"You know, I can understand everything you say."

Northern Ireland flipped his body around from slamming on the door, and glared hatefully at the similar looking male. "Ireland." He spat.

Liam Kirkland glared sternly at his younger 'sibling'. "Do not speak to me that way." The Irish male was, as always, dressed in a tailor made rust-colored suit with a green and red tie tucked lightly away in the coat.

Northern Ireland glared. "Why can't I? You-" His grey eyes widened slightly when he felt a large hand slap his back, unfortunately making the unbalanced male fall to the ground.

_Thud._

Tristan fell directly at Ireland's feet. "Humph." A Prada shoe poked the red head.

Northern Ireland got up, his face red as he continued to switch his glare from one red head, to the other. Liam looked unamused as the fire truck-red head standing beside him, took a callused hand and messed up his (probably) gelled hair.

Scotland gave a booming laugh as he scratched the back of his head. "Ah, sorry lad." Tristan sighed as he shook his head. "It's… fine Scotland."

Scotland smiled, his green eyes seemingly glowing in the faint light, as he stared around.

"Aye. Looks like they redecorated didn't they?"

It was true; the meeting room they used for centuries had finally been redone. Wooden floor was devoid of all carpets (The stains were always too hard to get out.), dark, dusty curtains were replaced and shoved back, showing bullet proof (Or nation proof, in this case) windows with bars and armed guards standing in front of them. On one of the nearest to the top floors, with only a table, chairs, bathroom, and water in it, the nations were locked in until five o'clock when they were released…

And then had to do the same thing for the other nine days.

…Back to the story.

The trio of red heads awkwardly stood for a minute or so, when the door flew open again.

"-Release me at once you bloody wankers! I can walk civilly you gits! Just wait till-"

The door's loudly slammed closed behind the padded security guards, leaving a red faced 'British gentleman' (As he oh so put it) breathing heavily.

"…"

England turned around and saw that almost all the others were there. "Scotland. Ireland. Northern Ireland." He greeted the first two stiffly, and the last person with a faint smirk.

Ireland tilted his head, while Tristan nodded slightly. Scotland (or Andrew.) however, could never spend time in a room with England without bothering him _somehow._

The tall red-head launched himself at Arthur and held him in a head lock, before running a hand over his neatly combed hair (Much like he did to Ireland) and messed it up so it stood up in as many directions possible.

"Stop it! Scotland-" England's face was red as he tried to simultaneously release himself from the iron grip and to smack the Scottish man.

Andrew let out a laugh as he finally released the island. "Ah, ye were always so much fun to annoy little lad."

Arthur Kirkland drew himself up to his full height, (which wasn't very tall compared to Scotland and Ireland.) and glared at the laughing male.

"Scotland-!"

Northern Ireland coughed lightly to gather the rest of his family's attention. He silently pointed to the table, and at the person that was quietly sitting there.

Scotland used this to divert the Englishman's attention.

"Wales! You've grown so much~!"

Sometimes the Kirkland's worried about Scotland.

Wales barely had time to react when Andrew's arms were wrapped tightly around him, muttering something under his breath.

"H-Hello Scotland-d." The blonde stuttered out. "C-Can you-u let g-g-go of-f m-me now? I-I'm ha-ving trouble-e b-b-reathing."

The red head loosened his arms a little to stare at the purple faced personification. "Oh. Yer've grown so much!" He released the boy, making the breathless one fall onto the table.

Northern Ireland sighed and patted Wales on the back. "I should feel grateful." The short boy muttered. "That I am technically the only one that wasn't attacked like that. I pretty sure though, that my face meeting the floor does count somewhere."

Wales nodded in sympathy. The slightly taller male's blue eyes flickered around the room as they landed on everyone. "We should get started."

England sighed as he sat down in the chair at the end of the table, much to Scotland and slightly Ireland's discomfort.

"At least he's an easier target to aim for…" England threw Scotland a dirty look.

"Now," England cleared his throat, the blonde haired, green eyed male staring at the assembled family members. "I would like to start with, welcome everyone, to the fourteenth annual Kirkland Family Meeting."

Ireland had already started to doodle slightly on his piece of paper.

"I think-"

Wales cut off the Britain. "England, don't you think we should introduce ourselves?"

All pairs of eyes snapped to the personification.

"…Wales. Does it look like we need to introduce ourselves?"

The boy shrugged. "You know, in case our favorite color has changed in the past ten years- Because it _has _been ten years, guys."

England sighed as he glanced at the clock. The sooner they finished, the sooner they could get out of there. "Fine, everyone introduce ourselves. Wales, how about you start, since it was your idea."

Wales grinned cheerfully, his white teeth showing. "I am the personification of the country of Wales, and my human name is Ronan Kirkland-" Scotland started to laugh slightly, but Wales glared at him. "-And I did not pick my name. My favorite… colors are red and green, and my favorite hobby is to go to the beach."

England sighed. "Right. Scotland?" Scotland smirked from his spot across the table from Wales. "I am the personification of Scotland, my human name is Andrew Kirkland. My favorite color is red and I have a pet- Nessie, but those bampots outside won't let her in- who is currently sitting outside."

Northern Ireland shivered at the thought of Nessie. England motioned for the boy sitting next to Wales to start. "My name is Tristan Kirkland, I am the personification of Northern Ireland. My favorite colors are orange and blue, and… I like to read."

England didn't even have to tell Ireland to start.

"I am the personification of the Republic of Ireland. My regular name is Liam Kirkland-" He shot a glare at England. "And I enjoy archery."

Scotland poked the grey-green eyed boy. "And yer favorite color?"

Liam's eye twitched. "Green."

Northern Ireland let out a yawn, which he lazily tried to cover. Ireland's strikingly similar green-grey eyes turned to look at his 'brother', who just tiredly smirked.

England sighed. "I am the human personification of England, and the personification of the U.K-" Everyone but Ireland coughed, while said person smiled charmingly. "My human name is Arthur Kirkland, my favorite color is blue and black, and I, unfortunately," Arthur had a faint smirk on his face. "-Have you gits for my siblings."

Immediately Scotland had his arms around England, yelling at Wales to punch "Yer older Sassenach of a brother".

_That _then sent Arthur off, his hands wrapped around Scotland's neck as he tried to strangle his older brother. "You bloody-!"

Both of the Irish brothers sighed.

This was going to be a _long _meeting…


	3. Eurovision Discussion

_Moi, Moi…. Ah. Gomen guys. I know I have been MIA for a while… But everything has just been so hectic here. Lot's of testing, you know?  
I love my school. No matter what grade you are in you have to do testing. Dandy isn't it?_

**Important: **

If you have no idea what _**EUROVISION**_ is, please read the following passage.

**Eurovision is a song contest that happens every year in (you guessed it) Europe. They do have some people participating not in the general area- (Israel, Russia, and Georgia for a start.) and it has been going on since the 1950's. The current 2013 song contest (Held in Malmo, Sweden) will start in MAY. This is what prompted this chapter.**

**For more information, look up 'Eurovision' on either their website or Wikipedia. (Do it. It has really awesome songs, especially from the past years. Winners often have their fame boosted. Ever heard of the song 'Euphoria' in the US?)**

_But anyways. I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers. I only own the plot and the reactions of people. Anything you recognize is not mine. I am sorry if anything offends anyone. Really._

…_.._

"Ah! Ireland! You're here early today, aren't you?" Wales cheerfully greeted the semi-stoic nation on the second day of their meeting.

Ireland tilted his head in greeting. "Aye. I guess everyone decided to sleep in though." The Island Republic motioned around the room, mysteriously (or not) empty from the other nations. Wales shrugged. "Oh well."

The duo waited for a few minutes, quietly shuffling papers and fixing pens just to try and get rid of the awkward tension hanging over them.

The door threw open with a bang.

"-I disagree you bampot! We actually 'ave to try hard this year! No more lazing around while Ireland wins for the twenty-ith time in a row!"

Wales sighed as he rested his head in his calloused palm, while Ireland smirked victoriously. The other people in the room didn't notice.

"You think I don't bloody well know that!? The Frog keeps on asking when we'll finally win something-"

"And I think 'e might be right for once! I mean, if Lil' Ireland can nearly win with _Jerward_ and they can't even _sing _technically-"

Northern Ireland (Who had sneaked in behind Scotland and England and had stolen a chair next to Ireland) shot a look at Ireland when he muttered, "I resent that."

"You know it's true though?" The younger looking redhead mumbled from out of the corner of his mouth. Ireland leaned back in his chair and lightly smacked the teenager across his head, silently ignoring the loud 'Gabh mo leithscéal-!' coming from the grey-green eyed boy.

Liam snorted quietly as the other male glared at him, crossing his arms as he stared at the fighting siblings in front of them. "At least though they did better than you. What place did you get last year? Twenty-fifth was it….?"

Northern Ireland flushed as he stared at the smug boy. "Yes. Didn't you get nineteenth? If I remember correctly… Loreen and Sweden won then…"

Ireland pushed his nose in the air. "Well, I like my song this year."

Wales tried to interfere. "Uh, guys-"

"What was it again?" Tristan interrupted. "'Only Love Survives' or something like that?" The boy glanced around the room, noticing the loud screaming had stopped from the other Kirklands. They watched interestedly at the two brothers- like a tennis match with the ball smacked back and forth.

Ireland caught the amused look on his (Blood related) younger brother, and shot a look at the other. With a slight flick of the wrist, the younger boy motioned to the captivated audience, probably waiting for the next firework to spark.

Liam caught the gesture and jerked his head barely.

"Yes. It is. It's rather interesting isn't? Especially compared to… _some _peoples Eurovision entries. I mean- who would enter 'Love Kills'? I mean… it's not that bad of a song. Just need's another singer. Don't even get me started on Finland's entry this year… I mean, is he proposing to Sweden already? It certainly looks that way."

The other boy shrugged. "I agree with your opinion of Belgium's song, but I have to say, I rather like Finland's song. It's rather…. Cute."

Wales and Scotland's mouths popped open as they gapped at the boy- who was studiously ignoring the looks sent at him.

_Nothern Ireland _saying a song was _cute!?_

That was like…. Like… England actually cooking something _edible. _

It was the apocalypse.

But it seemed like the apocalypse was postponed until the end of the conversation, for Ireland had to answer the boy.

"'Cute'?" Ireland raised an eyebrow, the only sign of expression on the older boy's face. "It's to…. American. All peppy and full of pop."

Scotland coughed into his hand. "Jerward."

Ireland glared. Tristan opened his mouth to respond.

"Yes but, it is adorable. I mean, Sweden already calls Finland his 'wife', so I think-"

'_Marry Me, I'll be your Queen Bee,_

_I love you endlessly_

_I do it for you, for you, for you, yeah I do it for you-_

_Marry Me Baby!'_

Every single person in the room closed their eyes and turned towards Scotland, who was absentmindedly flicking through YouTube to look at the different enteries. "What?" The redhead asked.

Northern Ireland's eye twitched as he turned back to his brother.

"Must I remind you that Euphoria won though? And it seemed very 'Pop' like. Maybe even a different kind of American. And you certainly didn't have anything against it then."

Everyone tried to ignore Scotland playing 'Euphoria' on his IPhone in the background.

The man in a crisp black suit sniffed angrily. "It was different." The other decided to change the subject- at least, not on those particular songs. "I rather liked Lena's first song. Satellite wasn't it?"

Northern Ireland narrowed his large eyes at the subject. "Yes…." He drawled out the word. "But besides the fact that it's very American sounding and it's classified as 'Pop'-"

England sniggered in his hand as the boy tried to lower the other down a few pegs.

"I disliked her next song… I think the charm that made her win was the way she sang the song. The accent really made it stand out the most. That- and the performance wasn't too boring or over done."

"She just basically stood there on stage with blue lighting everywhere."

"Exactly."

Ireland leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, making a small 'hummm' noise. "I prefer the song 'Only Teardrops' this year though. Although a little bit boring sounding, and supposedly it's a drinking song-"

"Does that even surprise you?"

"Point taken. It's one of the best, I believe."

Tristan sighed. "You're so bi-polar, you know?"

Ireland sniffed before turning to the other countries. "Well? Aren't we going to start the meeting?"

The grey-green eyed teenager sighed. "Yep. Bi-polar."


End file.
